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Spacehounds of IPC by E E. Doc Smith

could find them.”

“Heavens, Steve!” A look of alarm flashed over Nadia’s face, then disappeared

as rapidly as it had come into being. “But of course comets aren’t really dangerous.”

“Sure not. A comet’s tail, which so many people are afraid of as being poison

gas, is almost a perfect vacuum, even at its thickest, and we’d have to wear space-suits

anyway. And speaking of vacuum . . . whoopee! We don’t need mercury any more than

a goldfish needs a gas-mask. When we get Mr. Tube done, we’ll take him out into

space, leaving his mouth open, and very shortly he’ll be as empty as a bobby-soxer’s

skull. Then we’ll seal him up, flash him out, come back here, and start spilling our

troubles into Brandon’s shell-like ear!”

“Wonderful! You do get an idea occasionally, don’t you? But how do we get out

there? Where is this Can-Cell’s Comet?”

”I don’t know, exactly—there’s one rub. Another is that I haven’t even started the

transmitter and receptor units. But we’ve got some field-generators here On board that I

can use, so it won’t be so bad. And our comet is in this part of the Solar System

somewhere fairly close. Wish we had an Ephemeris, a couple of I-P solar charts, and a

real telescope.”

“You can’t do much without an Ephemeris, I shouldn’t think. It’s a good thing you

kept the chronometers going. You know the I-P time, day, and dates, anyway.”

“I’ll have to do without some things, that’s all,” and the man stared absently at the

steel wall. “I remember something about its orbit, since it is one thing that all I-P vessels

have to steer clear of. Think I can figure it close enough so that we’ll be able to find it in

our little telescope, or even on our plate, since we’ll be out of atmosphere. And it might

not be a bad idea for us to get away, anyway. I’m afraid of those folks on that space-

ship, whoever they were, and they must live around here somewhere. Cantrell’s Comet

swings about fifty million kilometers outside Jupiter’s orbit at aphelion—close enough for

us to reach, and yet probably too far for them to find us easily. By the time we get back

here, they probably will have quit looking for us, if they look at all. Then too, I expect

these savages to follow us up. What say, little ace—do we try it or do we stay here ?”

“You know best, Steve. As I said before, I’m with you from now on, in whatever

you think best to do. I know that you think it best to go out there. Therefore, so do I.”

“Well,” he said, finally, “I’d better get busy, then— there’s a lot to do before we

can start. The radio doesn’t come next, after all — the transmitter and receptor units

come ahead of it. They won’t mean wasted labor, in any event, since we’ll have to have

them in case the radio fails. You’d better lay in a lot of supplies while I’m working on that

stuff, but don’t go out of sight, and yell like fury if you see anything. We’d both better

wear full armor every time we go out-of-doors—unless I’m all out of control we aren’t

done with those savages yet. Even though they may be afraid of the demons of the

falls, I think they’ll have at least one more try at us.”

While Nadia brought in meat and vegetables and stored them away, Stevens

attacked the problem of constructing the pair of tight-beam, auto-dirigible transmitter

and receptor units which would connect his great turbo-alternator to the accumulators of

their craft, wherever it might be in space. From the force-field generators of the Forlorn

Hope he selected the two most suitable for his purpose, tuned them to the exact

frequency he required, and around them built a complex system of condensers and

coils.

Day after day passed. Their larder was full, the receptor was finished, and the

beam transmitter was almost ready to attach to the turbo-alternator before the calm was

broken.

“Steve!” Nadia shrieked. Glancing idly into the communicator plate, she had been

perfunctorily surveying the surrounding territory. “They’re coming! Thousands of them!

They’re all over the bench up there, and just simply pouring down the hills and up the

valley!”

“Wish they’d waited a few hours longer—we’d’ve been gone. However, we’re just

about ready for them,” he commented grimly, as he stared over her shoulder into the

communicator plate. “We’ll make a lot of those Indians wish that they had stayed at

home with their papooses.”

“Have you got all those rays and things fixed up ?”

“Not as many as I’d like to have. You see, I don’t know the composition of the I-P

ray, since it is outlawed to everybody except the police. Of course I could have found

out from Brandon, but never paid any attention to it. I’ve got some nice ultra-violet,

though, and a short-wave oscillatory that’ll cook an elephant to a cinder in about eight

seconds. We’ll keep ’em amused, no fooling! Glad we had time to cover our open sides,

and it looks as though that meteorite armor we put over the projectors may be mighty

useful, too.”

On and on the savages came, massed in formations showing some signs of rude

discipline. This time there was neither shrieking nor yelling; the weird creatures

advanced silently and methodically. Here and there were massed groups of hundreds,

dragging behind them engines which Stevens studied with interest.

“Hm . . . m . . . m. Catapults,” he mused. “You were right, girl of my dreams —

armor and bows and arrows wouldn’t help us much right now. They’re going to throw

rocks at us that’ll have both mass and momentum. With those things they can cave in

our side-armor, and might even dent our roof. When one of those projectiles hits, we

want to be where it ain’t, that’s all.”

Stevens cast off the heavily-insulated plug connecting the power plant leads to

his now almost fully charged accumulators, strapped himself and Nadia into place at the

controls, and waited, staring into the plate. Catapult after catapult was dragged to the lip

of the little canyon, until six of them bore upon the target. The huge stranded springs of

hair, fibre, and sinew were wound up to the limit, and enormous masses of rock were

toilsomely rolled upon the platforms. Each “gunner” seized his trip, and as the leader

shrieked his signal the six ponderous masses of metalliferous rock heaved into the air

as one. But they did not strike their objective, for as the signal was given, ‘Stevens shot

power into his projectors. The Forlorn Hope leaped out of the canyon and high into the

air over the open meadow, just as the six great projectiles crashed into the ground upon

the spot which, an instant before, she had occupied.

Rudimentary discipline forgotten, the horde rushed down into the canyon and the

valley, in full clamor of their barbaric urges. Horns and arms tossed fiercely, savage

noises rent the air, and arrows splintered harmlessly upon steel plate as the mystified

and maddened warriors upon the plain below gave vent to their outraged feelings.

“Look, Nadia! A whole gang of them are smelling around that power plug. Pretty

soon somebody’s going to touch a hot spot, and when he does we’ll cut loose on the

rest of them.”

The huge insulating plug, housing the ends of the three great cables leading to

the converters of the turbo-alternator, lay innocently upon the ground, its three yawning

holes invitingly open to savage arms. The chief, who had been inspecting the power-

plant, walked along the triplex lead and joined his followers at its terminus. Pointing with

his horns he jabbered orders, and three red monsters, one at each cable, bent to lift the

plug, while the leader himself thrust an arm into each of the three contact holes. There

was a flash of searing flame and the reeking smoke of burning flesh—those three arms

had taken the terrific no-load voltage of the three-phase converter system, and the full

power of the alternator had been shorted directly to ground through the comparatively

small resistance of his body.

Stevens had poised the Forlorn Hope edgewise in mid-air, so that the gleaming,

heavily armored parabolic reflectors of his projectors, mounted upon the leading edge of

the fortress, covered the scene below. As the charred corpse of the savage chieftain

dropped to the ground, it seemed to the six-limbed creatures that the demons of the

falls had indeed been annoyed beyond endurance by their intrusion; for, as if in

response to the flash of fire from the power plug, that structure so peculiarly and so

stolidly hanging in the air came plunging down toward them. From it there reached

down twin fans of death and destruction: one flaming an almost invisibly incandescent

violet which tore at the eyes and excruciatingly disintegrated brain and nervous tissues;

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Categories: E.E Doc Smith
curiosity: